Stand by You
by elizabethswanjones
Summary: The pirate captain Killian Jones is sent from the Southern Isles to kill Princess Emma of Misthaven. It is the perfect job for him to exact his revenge on the royal family responsible for the death of his brother, but instead he finds himself caught up in so much more than he bargained for. Captain Duckling.


_I was given this prompt by a close friend and just ran with it. This is my first fanfiction shared with other people, so feel free to give some constructive criticism. Thanks for reading!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or the characters used in this story; nor do I own the song "Stand by You" by Rachel Platten from which the title of this story was taken._

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A man dressed in uniform slid through the throng of gold and silken finery, not letting his distaste for the excess of grandeur show on his face. The well-mannered and refined sea captain he was playing the role of this evening would not find the blatant display of wealth displeasing and the last thing he needed was someone questioning his identity. He did not think he was currently wanted by the kingdom of Misthaven, but one could never be too careful. A squire standing just inside the oak doors of the ballroom extended his hand for the invitation.

"Captain Killian Jones," he said to the squire, who nodded in response, eyes skimming the invitation briefly. Killian walked to the stairs when the squire motioned him onwards.

"Captain Killian Jones of the Southern Isles; ambassador to the kingdom of Misthaven," cried the squire as he descended the stairs. He glanced around the room, taking note of King David and Queen Snow sitting in their thrones at the opposite end of the room and the guards standing sentry at the doors leading out to the gardens to his left. His gaze narrowed briefly at the sight of the royal couple, but he quickly smoothed his expression back into an easy smile. The room was already crowded with people as the crown princess was due to make an appearance any moment. Killian took a flute of champagne from the tray of a serving boy as he stepped off the stairs and made his way to the edge of the room. It was unlikely anyone in the room would recognize him, much less his surname, but it was probably best if he didn't wonder amongst the crowd.

Killian closed his eyes and thought of the last time he had stood in this ballroom. He had been only a lad then, barely eighteen years of age, attending a ball in honor of the kingdom's victories on the battlefield. As a newly appointed lieutenant in the naval forces, Killian had been spell-bound by the splendor of the palace and all the offerings of a royal ball. Now, a man of eight in twenty years of age, he saw through the gilded exterior to the true darkness of the royal family. It was due to their bad form that his brother had been killed. Since then he had sailed under the crimson flag, serving no man unless it benefited him in some manner. Two weeks ago he had been approached by the King of the Southern Isles with a mission which would finally allow him to achieve his revenge: he was to assassinate the princess of Misthaven.

In order to enter the kingdom undetected, Killian had been sent as an ambassador for the Southern Isles to the birthday ball of the crown princess. Despite arriving in the kingdom the day prior, he had yet to lay eyes on the princess. It was through no lack of effort on his part, as the princess seemed to not be within the walls of the palace and he had resigned himself to waiting until the ball. Killian was loathe to kill the young woman in the middle of the ball, as he would like to arrive back in the Southern Isles alive, but it seemed his only option now.

"Captain Jones! I didn't see you come in!" A slap on the back accompanied the boisterous greeting, and Killian turned to face the captain of the guard, Robin Locksley. In another time Killian would have found companionship in the man who had befriended him only yesterday at dinner, but now he was slightly annoyed at the interruption of his thoughts.

"Locksley, it's good to see you." He smiled, but even to him it felt tight. Robin seemed not to notice and nodded to the severe but pretty woman on his arm.

"I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Lady Regina Locksley. Regina, this is Captain Killian Jones of the Southern Isles." Regina nodded to Killian, politely, her cool eyes appraising him before she turned to her husband.

"There are several things I have to discuss with Snow. I will leave you two to converse."

"Of course, my love." Robin brought her hand to his lips, making Regina's face soften for a brief moment. She nodded again to Killian and walked away towards the thrones. "Regina can be intense at times, but she is a good woman at heart," said Robin as she left.

"Aye, she seems like a lovely woman," agreed Killian, eyes scanning the room for a viable reason to disengage himself from conversation with the other man.

"How are you settling in?" asked Robin, sipping at his own flute of champagne. Killian took a sip of his own, resigning himself to conversation while he awaited the appearance of the princess.

"Very well thanks. My room has a lovely view of the harbor. It is always a comfort for a man of the sea such as myself to be able to see the moonlight on the water at night."

"That is wonderful to hear. The Grand Duke, that elderly gentleman over there," Robin gestured to a stout man with graying hair, "has insisted on changing rooms at least five times. Bloody nightmare he is to deal with. Though I suppose you know all about that with the twelve princes of your own kingdom." Killian had to chuckle at that, despite his irritation with the talkative captain. The princes were indeed a handful and a half, and that was putting it lightly.

"Bloody nightmare is a polite way of putting it. Once they decided to pretend the youngest prince did not exist for two years." Robin snorted, taking another sip of champagne.

"I am not sure I could manage twelve princes myself; I certainly don't envy your job. The princess is enough trouble as it is. It will be a miracle if we can make it through tonight without her attempting to escape to the village or out into the woods on her horse. Quite creative that one; makes guarding her a challenge."

"Is she?" replied Killian, raising an eyebrow. That was intriguing. The only princesses he had met were the wives of the elder princes of the Southern Isles, and none of them would ever attempt to run from the castle in the middle of a ball in their honor. Robin opened his mouth but was interrupted by the trumpets announcing the arrival of the princess.

"Princess Emma of Misthaven, escorted by Prince Leopald of Misthaven," cried the squire. Killian turned to the stairs and froze in shock, his mouth hanging slightly open. He had heard the princess was a sight to behold, but he had not expected her to look quite so beautiful. Her golden blonde curls were loose around her shoulders, a delicate tiara decorated with diamonds and rubies resting on the top of her head. Full pink lips formed a pretty pout, her green eyes flashing in the light of the flames on either side of the stairs. The red gown she wore rested off her shoulders, flaring out from her waist in what seemed to be a hundred layers of tulle adored with roses and glittering embroidery. Pulled from his admiration of the princess by a jab to the ribs, Killian realized he had been staring. Robin was grinning at his shoulder, amused by his reaction to seeing the princess for the first time.

"The princess is quite beautiful, isn't she?" Killian scratched a spot behind his ear, a nervous tick he had adopted as a boy.

"Aye, that she is," he replied, shaking his head as the princess and her brother made their way to the dance floor. He was here to kill the princess, to finally get his revenge for his brother. Squaring his shoulders, he watched with a stony gaze as they prepared for the first dance of the ball. Music began to play, and Killian found himself once again entranced by Princess Emma. She was a wonderful dancer, gliding gracefully across the floor in the arms of her brother. He wondered vaguely to himself if he could afford a dance with her before he killed her. No, it would be too risky. People would remember a man who danced with the princess and it was much less likely he would be able to get out of the kingdom alive. The princess curtsied low to her brother as the dance finished, and he found himself clapping with the other guests.

"Lords, Ladies, esteemed guests," came a powerful voice from the direction of the thrones. King David was standing now, gazing out at the ballroom. "It is my pleasure to welcome you into our home to celebrate my Emma's twenty first birthday. It has been such an honor to raise a wonderful young woman like her; Snow and I couldn't be prouder of our baby girl." Queen was smiling wanly from her seat next to David, pride shining from her eyes. "I hope everyone enjoys themselves this evening. Let the ball commence!" A collective cheer rose up from the guests and the dance floor was flooded as the music began once more. Killian watched as David and Snow moved to dance, their children pairing up with a lord and lady unknown to him.

"That is my cue to find my wife," sighed Robin, finishing off his champagne. He reached out to shake Killian's hand. "We'll speak later."

"Of course," replied Killian, with no true sincerity. If the other man suspected something wrong with his tone, he said nothing and departed to find his wife. Killian turned his eyes once more to the dance floor, keeping careful tabs on Emma as she switched from one partner to another. Robin and his wife spun passed him, looking at each other with soft eyes and Killian felt a pull at his heart. He couldn't help but be slightly jealous of the couple who were so deeply in love. Killian had no lass of his own, and his younger self had always dreamed of having a large family one day. After his brother had been killed, he put his dreams aside on his quest for vengeance and a small part of him still longed for his own family.

Killian shook himself out of his musings to look out over the dance floor again. The princess was dancing with the Grand Duke, and her lips formed a deep frown as she looked uncomfortably away from the older gentleman. As they turned, he realized the source of her discomfort stemmed from the man's hand resting much lower than was appropriate on her back. Without thinking, he made his way across the dance floor and tapped on the princess's shoulder.

"Excuse me your highness, I was wondering if I might have this dance?" Her green eyes were wide with surprise, and the Grand Duke looked rather affronted.

"It is terribly rude to interrupt a dance, Captain," sneered the gentleman. He was glaring at Killian sharply, as if it was Killian who had crossed the grounds of propriety. Killian simply raised an eyebrow in response.

"Is that so? I thought her ladyship might appreciate a partner who knew how to keep his hands to himself. It's bad form to grope a young woman on the dance floor and even worse form if it is your princess."

"How dare you!" sputtered the Grand Duke, face flushing with anger.

"Calm yourselves, gentleman," scolded the princess, her voice firm. "You are in the middle of a royal ball and you will behave as such in my presence. Perhaps you should find your wife, Duke Hemmings." The Grand Duke glared one last time at Killian, which he returned with a lazy smirk, before walking away. Princess Emma turned to Killian and he was surprised to find her green eyes glittering with anger.

"I don't know who you are, but I am perfectly capable of handling myself. I don't need a man to defend my honor," she hissed. Killian blinked in surprise and quirked an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden switch from regal to furry.

"If you are capable of handling yourself, then why did you allow the Grand Duke to lay his hands on you?"

"I was handling it!" The princess was glaring at Killian and he found himself struck by her once more. Her anger only enhanced her beauty, he thought, her cheeks a pretty red and her eyes blazing green fire.

"I think you were the one being handled, your highness." Killian smirked at her, and she opened and closed her mouth a few times, too furious to speak. As a new dance began, he swept the princess into his arms and amongst the other whirling dancers.

"How dare you!" she spat, even as she relaxed in his arms.

"I did protect your honor, your highness," Killian reasoned. "The least you can do to thank me is allow me a dance." The princess spun away and back in the course of the dance, eyes pinning him with a deadly gaze.

"I told you, I was handling it, Captain… Who are you?" she asked.

"Captain Killian Jones, I am from the Southern Isles," he replied, lifting her effortlessly in time with the other dancers.

"Well then, Captain Jones, your actions were unnecessary." The princess's gaze had softened somewhat as they danced, her anger abating as they danced. "But thank you." Killian grinned in silent victory.

"What was that, your highness? I don't believe I heard you." She shoved him lightly in the shoulder and Killian laughed as they swept across the floor. He was offered a small smile in response, and he returned it with one of his own. They finished the dance in comfortable silence, and he was surprised when the princess reached for him once more as the music changed. She must have read the surprise on his face and rolled her eyes.

"This has nothing to do with you, Captain, so don't get cocky. My parents have threatened to never allow me on another hunt if I disappear from this ball, and you are both a good dancer and well mannered. I figure if I must endure the torture of this ball then I might as well enjoy myself dancing with someone decent looking."

"Decent looking?" asked Killian in mock horror. "You wound me, your highness. I much prefer 'dashing rapscallion'." The princess rolled her eyes once more.

"Of course of everything I say you take offense to being called decent looking."

"I am afraid I must defend my own honor, your highness, as I do not have a dashing rapscallion of a Captain to defend it for me."

"And I am afraid calling you a dashing rapscallion would inflate your already over-sized ego," replied the princess as he spun her. He laughed in response, causing another small smile to cross her face.

"If you cannot call me a dashing rapscallion then perhaps you can manage call me Killian, your highness." She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "It is only fair if you are using me as entertainment for the evening."

"If I am to call you Killian, then I insist you call me Emma." Killian thrilled inwardly at the sound of his name coming from her lips.

"Very well, Emma." Emma flushed slightly, looking away from him. "Tell me about these hunts that your parents seem keen to keep you from."

"You want to hear of the hunts I have been on?" Her voice was incredulous.

"Of course Emma," he replied. "It sounds like there is many a good tale to be told there." Emma looked at him closely, as if trying to decide if he was serious. When he raised an eyebrow in response, awaiting her to begin her tales, she shrugged and began. Killian lost track of the time they spent dancing, enraptured in her tales and adding a couple of his own adventures from the high seas as a young lieutenant. Emma curtsied low to him at the end of a song, and Killian realized the music had stopped. It was only then he remembered the small stiletto knife dipped in poison which was tucked into the lining of his jacket. He cursed inwardly. He was here to kill Emma, not dance the night away with her in his arms. He was here for revenge, nothing else.

"Emma!" The pair turned to see the king and queen standing near them. King David was looking at him with barely concealed distaste, but Queen Snow was smiling as if she knew a secret no one else knew. "Are you going to introduce us to the handsome captain you have been dancing with all night?"

"This is Killian, er, Captain Jones of the Southern Isles," said Emma, gesturing at Killian. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, your highnesses," he returned bowing to David and kissing Snow's offered hand. "Your daughter is quite the woman."

"Yes, she is quite something isn't she?" laughed Snow.

"She is standing right here," grumbled Emma. Killian chuckled in response, reaching down to kiss her hand as well.

"Of course, how could one forget you, lass?" Emma stuck out her tongue in response, but a faint blush was evident on her cheeks.

"Right, it's getting late. I think it's time for bed Emma," interjected David, eying Killian up and down. Snow rolled her eyes at her husband, before turning apologetic eyes to Killian.

"Would you like to join us for breakfast, Captain Jones?"

"What? He's not joining us for breakfast!" protested David.

"Oh hush dear. What do you think Emma?"

"I think that's okay with me," replied Emma, a slow smile forming. David groaned in response, but was silenced by a sift look from Snow.

"Then it would be my honor to join you for breakfast in the morning." Not to mention an opportunity to actually carry out his mission. It was too late to do anything tonight, but a private breakfast in the morning would give him another chance.

"At least the room will be decent looking," said Emma, throwing Killian a wicked grin.

"Oi, I told you I am a dashing rapscallion," he returned.

"And how could anyone forget a thing that you say?" asked Emma, patting his shoulder with a chuckle. She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight Killian, I will see you in the morning." Killian nodded to her, eyes wide and his breathing heightened.

"Pleasure to meet you, Captain Jones," said Snow, before dragging a grumbling King David along with her and exiting the ballroom with Emma and Prince Leopald in tow. Killian reached up to brush the spot on his cheek Emma had kissed. He shook his head, trying to escape thoughts of the beautiful and feisty princess. She had surprised him in every way, and it had to stop before he did something stupid like fall in love with her. He exited the ballroom as he mentally collected himself, ignoring the little voice in his head telling him it was already too late.


End file.
